Hustle
by t3h maniac
Summary: 10 assassins, one scam, millions of dollars of profit. The problem? Most of them are too insane to sign the contract. You just have to find out what they want, put it on a silver platter and hold it out of their reach.
1. Death Metal

**Hustle**

**Take around 10 of the worlds most deadly assassins, appeal to their egos or misguided sense of justice and you have a scam going that is worth millions. The only problem for Sylvia is that hardly any of them are sane enough.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters**

**--**

**10. Death Metal**

A white limo pulled up outside the Townsend manor on the outskirts of Santa Destroy. It was one of the few places in the Southern Californian city that could be considered beautiful, looking out of the tinted class the half-Ukrainian, half-Japanese Sylvia Christel made a small note that when the owner meets his unfortunate demise to make an offer for the seaside mansion.

It seems that the old count still had some sense of taste left in him. For how long was a different matter. Casually unbuttoning the top of her suit so that any tall bodyguard would get a good view and be more…helpful. _Speak of the devil's _she thought as she stepped out to be greeted by two men in black suits and sun glasses, failing or at least not trying to conceal the handguns in their left pockets.

"Excuse moi, I am here to see Count Townsend." She said, her French accent purposefully thick.

"The Count doesn't have any new appointments so unless you're the replacement masseuse I think its wisest for you to leave." The guard replied, Sylvia gave the driver of her limo a small wink. He knew that this was going to take a while.

"I don't think you understand, this iz not about some massage, but more about his… shall we say… personal work?"

"What do you mean."

"I am the chief secretary at the UAA. The United Association of assassins."

"Never heard of you."

"Zat is because we are very exclusive. Only the top 50 assassins in the world know of us." The two guards exchanged a few looks before one of them pulled out a radio contactor.

"Just a sec. Hey boss, we got some woman from something called the UAA. Its some assassination gig. Yes I know they normally fax you the details, fine. Townsend will see you now."

The alleged secretary and actual con-artist was lead threw a large hall before having to follow a twisted trail in the fauna, that was one thing that had to go, it was not suited for wearing high heels. That and the religious imagery. It seemed ironic that someone who's profession would guarantee them a trip to the deepest circles of hell would be so interested in religion, the last hall before the pool looked like a cathedral, the ornate stained glass windows, the giant piped organ, the golden cross taking pride and place.

They apparently didn't give him the nickname holy sword without some basis.

"Mr Townsend." She greeted

"Stunning, isn't it?" An old man in a burgundy dressing gown mused, his face was so full of piercing that Sylvia wondered if she threw fridge magnets at him, how many would stick before remembering that this was one of the most dangerous men on the planet.

"The view? Well yes but unfortunately…"

"Not that, the fact people seem to have to end lives to promote there own. If not end, diminish it at the very least."

"All philosophy aside Death Metal, I have serious business with you." The use of his assassin alias earned her a raised eyebrow.

"Well at least you know who exactly you're dealing with. So what brings you to my humble abode."

"I would like to congratulate you on behalf of the UAA for becoming the 10th best assassin in the US. If you would like to make this official and secure a place on our rankings all you have to do is sign here. Both real name and alias if you please." She handed over a small black pen and placed the clipboard out into his hands, he studied the document for a while before asking the one question she had been prepared for.

"And why should I?"

"Because if you don't there is a strong chance of you being leapfrogged by those who do register, they can opt to fight the next registered ranked assassin and take there spot."

"So it's a target on my back."

"I wouldn't say that, there are severe obstacles one has to overcome to qualify. But since you are already such a high rank it is highly unlikely that any challenger would pose much of a threat if you signed. Or you could rise up the ranks yourself."

"Fine, I shall sign this, but I don't think I'll fight through your gauntlet for you." He said, scribbling his name on the paper while smiling.

"Why not?"

"It is simple, I have no need to. I have everything a man could possibly dream of, I hold the keys to death in my hand. I will merely serve to make those misguided fools who wish to use this UAA of yours as a way to get respect amongst their peers the error of their ways. Good day miss Christel."

Sylvia left the building, her objective accomplished but in a foul mood. On the piece of paper below the contract she made a little note. "If suitable challenger, major discount."

--

**This will be covering all the ranked assassins and how they fell for the scam. Who knows, maybe I'll add in a bit where one of them climbs the ranks. Reviews are appreciated.**


	2. Dr Peace

**Rank 9: Dr Peace**

**Another time, another assassin waiting to be conned.**

**Disclaimer: Does not own characters.**

**--**

This one was much more difficult to find. You had to know the right sort of people to get into contact with the good doctor, and to know that sort of people you had to hang out in an area where the wrong sort of people frequented in the hopes they had heard a rumour about the right sort of people. Not Sylvia's style at all. Plus that involved the mafia directly and con artists do not mix well with organized crime. Best to cut out the middle men lest they cut _her_ out.

She occasionally visited the death match bar in the hopes of finding a young punk with nothing left to loose except his wallet. But this sort of recon required more effort than she was willing to put in for this.

So she took the easy road. Find out where he lived and pay a visit personally, rather than get a contact with him professionally.

It was a risky move but Sylvia was determined to reap another payment of this one. Its not like he couldn't spare the cash, all his racketeering business must have got him a lot of money.

Finding his address wasn't too hard, her contact in Santa Destroy downtown area had traced him to a small apartment overlooking Gold Town, number 231. _Let's see if the mafia's weapon of choice wants to play my game._

A man in his 40's with a leather jacket answered the door bell. "Can I help you ma'am?"

"Yes, I am looking for a certain doctor, I heard that he lived around here?"

"No doctors around here, wrong sort of neighbourhood, try the hospital."

"This doctor doesn't work in any hospital, he is more… private practice… but some of his patients end up there, or at least the morgue."

"What do you know?"

"Enough."

"So the jigs up. Do you want me with my hands raised?" The former police officer chuckled.

"I believe you misunderstand me, I am not some police officer."

"Then what are you? FBI, undercover CIA? If one of the families wants to get a hold of me they always phone in advance."

"This is not related to any mafia, it is better to leave them out of the loop, oui?"

"Come inside." He offered, it was fairly simplistic. Not much in the way of furniture but was thankfully tidy, Sylvia despised messes, unless it was a mess of sheets after a night with her husband, Henry Christel "Sorry if it ain't much. Been on the move constantly lately."

"I should probably cut to the chase. We have dealt with enough semantics already. I represent the UAA. The United Association of Assassins, we hold information on all the assassins across the world, but only the best killers know of us."

"Except for the guys that work for you." The Texan retorted.

"Very clever Dr Peace."

"I try."

"This is a proposition, if you were to sign up for membership now, you would be officially notified of your ranking in comparison to all assassins in the United States and will have the option of progressing further, if you so desire." Sylvia explained, this was always the hardest part, getting them to make the final jump, put their name on the dotted line. Put their money where their pen is so to speak.

"What's in it for me? Bragging rights don't sit too well with me."

"Would you like another opportunity to see them again? Your family."

"If you or your Association laid a single finger on them." The mafia hitman growled, priming his magnum and pointing it directly at Sylvia. _Where did he pull that from? Perhaps I shouldn't be taking these people so lightly. Or at least not the ones with easily concealable weapons._

"Please, there is no need to get violent. We have not been in contact but with our resources we may be able to re-establish some form of contact without resorting to force. As a rule, we ourselves normally seek to avoid unnecessary hasty actions."

"Fine. Where do I sign?" He sighed, pulling the custom made firearm away as Sylvia produced a contract and a pen.

"Congratulations Number 9."

--

**I'm working up the rankings but there's going to be one exception to this, your guess as to who it is and who Sylvia's contact was. Go on, guess.**


	3. Shinobu

**No.8 Shinobu**

**Decided to add another chapter to this, despite the lack of feedback for my previous chapter and continuing with the pattern, this time its Scarlet Jacobs who gets roped in. Stay with me, this is going to be a long one.**

**Disclaimer: Stop asking me if I own the characters, I already said no.**

**--**

English classes always sucked. It was one of those facts of life that Scarlet Jacobs was dealing with.

How the hell was she supposed to explain how poetry could invoke emotions, the only thing it invoked in her was sleepyness.

Or that could have been the work of a 'late night on the town'. Both ways it was boring and tiring making her…_ZZZZ_

_--_

_She received the call about an hour after she got back home. It was another simple job, no-one major and if the friends of the target wanted revenge she was always available for hire. That's what she was at night, a hired gun, a silenced gun capable of taking out a whole building of mooks in a few minutes without any sign of damage or having to reload yet tends to leave a lot of blood splattered across the walls but a hired gun none the less. Maybe hired sword would be a better term considering her weapon of choice._

_It was a small time gang who had been unwittingly causing problems for her current employer; he wanted the leader dead and hired her to do the job._

_Infiltrating the gangs headquarters was easy enough, they may as well have put a neon sign telling everyone who they were outside the window. Two of his followers were on guard duty, guarding what appeared to be an abandoned building from intruders. Like that wasn't a give away._

_The two guards fell silently with a quick couple of slices, they didn't even see her coming._

_--_

"Miss Jacobs?" Her teacher asked, snapping her out of her mid-day slumber.

"Huh? What happened?"

"This is the second time you've fallen asleep in class this week Scarlet."

""I'm sorry miss. I'll try not to."

"Yes? I see. I suppose if it is urgent. Scarlet, there is a person to see you at reception."

Walking down the halls of Santa Destroy High was not something that was taken lightly for anyone who didn't have a death wish. There were individual factions within the school all feuding amongst themselves with knife fights a frequent occurrence in some of the darker areas of the halls. The trophy cabinets were all empty because whenever they did win something one of the students would always steal it.

"Excuse moi, but are you perchance Miss Jacobs?" A strange woman standing by the reception desk asked, she was dressed in a small black top designed to show off as much cleavage as possible. There was a stench of expensive perfume.

"And you are?"

"I am sorry, my name is Sylvia Christel. I have some news regarding your… family. Is it possible to have a word in private?" She motioned to the receptionist. As the two walked into a more secluded area (the sick bay, the woman taking care to sterilize the seat before she sat down) Shinobu maintained a firm grip on her sword.

"So what is it you really want?" She asked bluntly.

"Straight to the point I see. I have some good news regarding your, midnight adventures."

"Not interested." The teenage assassin told her, turning her back to walk out of the door.

"Don't you want to take revenge on the man who killed your father? That is why you hold his sword is it not?" This stopped her in her tracks.

"I'm listening."

"I work for an organization called the UAA."

"United associations of Assassins?"

"You have heard of us?" This flustered Sylvia, if word got out that meant she could have been found out already.

"No. But it's pretty easy to figure out what the acronym means."

"Well," the con artist said, trying to regain composure "We hold the rankings for the top 50 assassins in the United states. There is the possibility to jump ranks by killing the person above you, but there are strict rules for that. In an attempt to rationalize claims as to who is the best in the world."

"So I'm number 50?" She asked. Why else would she only find out about them now? If they existed.

"9 actually, unless you sign up now. I see much potential in you Shinobu, you could opt to participate in a ranking fight against the number 8 rank should you wish to move up."

"Why would I?" She asked. Sylvia had this line rehearsed, it always paid to do a bit of back story research first before attempting to scam someone.

"The person who killed your father was most likely looking for notoriety; something like this would be too much of a temptation to resist. If you rose to the top of the rankings, either he would have to go through you, or you would have to go through him."

"I'll do it. Who's mister 8?"

"A colourful character to be sure, he will be a very difficult opponent. If you are sure, please make a donation of 100 thousand to this account number as soon as possible."

"A hundred grand? I'm a high school student, not a wealthy person with a fucked up mind. You really expect me to have that kind of cash on me?"

"It is a terrific expense to be sure. But I'm sure all those jobs you have taken must have secured quite a nest egg. If you succeed you will be refunded an amount based on your performance."

Fine, but I'll have to take a few more jobs before I can afford it."

"I can wait, I doubt it will take someone of your skills long to work up the amount."

--

It had taken about half a week to get enough money to cover the entrance fee but here she was. Atop of a multi-story office block awaiting the man she would have to beat to become number 8. What she didn't expect was an albino to be standing across the roof from her, a cigar in his mouth and two weird custom made guns. It was as though someone tried to combine a minigun with a pistol. It looked pretty unwieldy.

"When Sylvia told me I had a new challenger, I didn't expect it to be someone so… young." He said, an air of confidence surrounding him, or maybe it was smoke form the cigar.

"You'd be surprised how many times I've heard that."

"Try me, Shinobu."

The 8th ranked assassin firs of several shots, instead of a regular machine gun style bullets, his weapon launched missiles. They were easy enough to dodge, utilizing her speed to get behind him she made a vertical slice at his back, bringing her sword down. Although the albino turned around in time to block the assault it still badly shook him. Taking advantage of the stunned man Shinobu did a front flip, her sword barely a flash of steel, cutting him down but not completely out.

His weapons deployed twin knives as he charged in, _big mistake_ she thought. Using the technique her father had made infamous she channelled energy into her blade "_**SONIC SWORD!**_" She screamed, the energy wave slicing through the air and eventually his neck. As the man crumpled at her feet she was congratulated by the slow clapping.

"Well done Miss Jacobs. You are now ranked 8th."

"That was it? How did he get to number 8 in the United States? He was a piece of cake."

"You'd be surprised how quickly a man can fall on an off day, perhaps all zat smoking was his downfall." She said, trying to resist holding her nose up the stench of blood. Why was it pouring like a bloody fountain from the base of his neck?

"Tell your organization to call me when the next fight is arranged. Just try not to do it during school time. I do want to actually pass my exams this year."

"Of course number 8."

--

**Now, a lot of you are probably wondering why I put **_**that**_** guy as the number 8****th**** to have Shinobu beat him. All will be explained next chapter if I do get some reviews.**


	4. Destroyman

No 7 Destroyman

**No 7 Destroyman**

**DESTROY-UPDATE! Sorry, had to be done.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the ones that they parody.**

**--**

People always said mail workers were insane. That one of the job requirements for the post office was a straight jacket and a previous lobotomy.

But when they say insane, most of them think of them as deranged, conspiracy theory nut-jobs and axe murderers. They don't think of costume wearing super-heroes/villain, which of the two he was depended upon whether or not he got a raise.

No-one expects the mailman; it's their weapon, surprise and fear.

Two weapons; surprise, fear and cunning.

Three weapons; surprise, fear, cunning all mixed in with ingenuity.

…

He had sunk years of pay into making a fully functional super-suit and he needed it more than ever. Acts of injustice were being commited on the streets of Santa Destroy every day, it needed a guardian. No gang was safe until they started bribery, that sweet sweet influx of cash that granted them protection. He even made a back story saying that in a duel with Doctor Diabolical over a nuclear reactor core he fell in and the radiation twisted him, turning him evil. He even started working as a hit man; soon he'd have enough money to move out from his parents' basement. It would all work out so long as no-one found his secret identity of a mild mannered mailman.

"Destroyman?" A blonde woman asked in a thick French accent

_Shit! They've gotten clever! _"Err…no." He tried.

"Please, you have been accepting his bribe money for the past five months."

_Note to self, alter-ego's need alter-addresses._ "So you've figured it out. What do you want?"

"A simple offer, no threat, no mafia, no complaints about your odour, much." She said, trying to resist spraying him in perfume. She placed a contract in his work booth "All you have to do is sign here and then you'll be officially ranked 7 in the UAA, will have members benefits, maybe earn enough money to make upgrades to your latex costume."

"So they try to play me as though I am but a chess piece, well I say nay." Destroyman replied, trying out a new angle. Ye olde banter.

"I'll introduce you to someone who can install nipple guns." Sylvia sweet talked.

"Deal." If only the rest were this easy to secure, at least this one was a guaranteed sale with no chance of a backlash, he's have machine gun man-boobs in a week, if the good doctor was available.

--

"At last it is complete, now with these new powers all of Santa Destroy will tremble in fear at the name Destroy Man!" He shouted from the roof tops

"Honey, its time for dinner." An elderly lady called up, he sank his shoulders from his dramatic pose that he was trying to achieve.

"Mom…"

"We're having steak."

"Awesome! I'll be down in a minute."

--

**Destroyman is such a fun character to deal with. Although not as much fun as Captain Falcon, nor as awesome, but when compared with Falcon you are going to loose in nearly every category.**


	5. Helter Skelter

**Helter Skelter & Letz Shake**

**An explanation for the surprise in chapter 3 of sorts. May raise more questions than answers.**

**--**

This wasn't going well, Scarlet "Shinobu" Jacobs had left the rooftop and he was _still_ bleeding, men don't bleed like that! "You really should fix that, doctor. It's not very realistic."

"Just be lucky the thing still works after the number of times its been through the wringer Sylvia, I've seen better robots been scraped after taking less damage than whatever you 'clients' are throwing at them." Doctor Naomi said, standing out from behind a billboard, controller in hand.

"It gets the ball rolling, she's determined, she's got a few to go through before reaching number 1. We'll get enough money to fund a replacement Skelter if need be, and provide a handsome profit." Sylvia dismissed her friend's worries.

"Speaking of which are we on for dinner tonight?"

"You know I'd never flake on my business partner."

"You told Harvey about this little scheme yet?" The mechanic and arms dealer asked.

"Not yet, he probably won't mind as long as I don't delve to some depths to get men to sign up."

"And if you go to such depths to get women to sign up?"

"He'll probably say something along the lines of 'make sure you record it'."

"I can believe that." The two laughed on top of the building.

--

It was late at night when Sylvia started to make her way down from the building, her conversation with Naomi took longer than expected, her limo was parked a small distance away, in order for Shinobu to be completely un-aware of the scheme, if she had parked so close, it would have been suspicious. It turned out to be a near fatal mistake as a man from Taiwan grabbed her by the collar, slammed her against the wall and put one hand over her mouth.

"Don't scream frauline, I'm not going to hurt you… for the moment." He said in a German accent, madness in his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I know all about your little scheme to get as much money as possible. At first I thought I should do the right thing and expose you… metaphorically of course… but then I thought maybe it would be better to join you in your escapades."

"Why?"

"A little pet project I had in mind, using some old government technology, I know you have a contact in such a field so you can help me out here ja? What I want is a 40 percent cut of the fight money for any 'ranked' fight, and don't think I wont know about it, I have eyes and ears everywhere. Plus add me as number 5 to your UAA, to fool anyone else who thinks I'm blackmailing you. It'll just look like I'm making revenue as an assassin. Okay? I'm glad ve had this little chat." He said, releasing Syliva and disappearing in the shadows.

When Sylvia got back to the safety of her limousine she immediately hit speed dial 1 "Henry?"

"_Sylvia? What's wrong?" _His Irish accent clear over the phone, along with his deep concern for his wife's well being.

"Nothing… there's just something I need you to take care of for me."

--

**Plot hole successfully filled without too much confusion, I hope.**


	6. Holly Summers

**Rank 6 Holly Summers**

**A return to the NMH fandom with the 6hth assassin and arguably rock hard boss battle (I hate missile spam)**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill by now.**

**--**

Holly strolled up and down the beach of Santa Destroy, each step reminding her of the path she chose.

It was on this beach she stepped on a landmine, losing her leg and killing her career as a model.

It was a rookie mistake when persuing a target. Fortunatley the still ended up floating face down in the polluted waters of the southern Californian coast.

Some say she became obsessed wit explosives then, because it forced her down one life track, with very little in the way of alter-ego cover. To Sylvia Christel, this should have made it all the easier to get her to join. She didn't expect the Scandinavian to be so… weird.

Not weird in the sense that she wore a skin-tight latex costume (although it probably would have looked good on her if she tried it) and had a crotch powered laser. But she was definitely… strange for an assassin and a former model. Maybe it was the high IQ.

"So do you understand the conditions?" Sylvia asked, handing Holly the pen.

"It seems so, I can challenge directly for a large sum or stay and have turtles snapping at my heels."

"That wouldn't be the way I would have put it." Sylvia muttered nervously, there was something about her that seemed to keep her off-guard. And it wasn't the fact she had a fake leg.

"Still, with my career I have already disregarded my life, shortening it further should do no harm." She conceded, signing on the dotted line.

"Thank you. You shall get the contract for the rank 5 fight as soon as possible."

"Do you enjoy your life?"

"W-Whatever do you mean?"

"Are you satisfied being the angel of death's messenger?"

"I am more than just some messenger! I'll have you know that throughout the organization my skills are the most valued…"

"But are you happy with it?" Holly quizzed again.

"…Excuse me, my phone seems to be vibrating. I'll have to re-schedule this for another time. Here, this contact will provide you with whatever you may need." As Sylvia rushed away from the now ranked 6th assassin Holly took the time to look at the card she had been handed.

"It's a small world it seems." Holly muttered before tossing the card out to sea.

--

**Next up will be Harvey Volodarski (I can't spell his middle name) or I might just cut a few out to get to the more (IMO) vital ones.**


	7. Harvey Volodarski

**Number 4: Harvey Volodarski**

**Do not ask me to spell out his middle name because I won't. Also I'm back to this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own No More Heroes nor do I make a profit out of this.**

**--**

"Welcome one, welcome all to Harvey's magic freak show, where you will be bewildered and amazed, possibly disgusted. But not to disgusted otherwise I wouldn't be doing a good business, nyet?"

Sonny Gambino was having a brilliant streak of luck. First no-one had found out about him being a snitch, the extra money from being on police payroll really helped him ease through the difficult financial climate, and now he'd been part of the select few the Don had invited to a show.

It was an impressive one at that, this Russian magician sure did know his stuff, whenever it looked as though he'd killed one of his female assistants they'd always spring back to life.

"For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer. Hmm," the magician said, his eyes scanning the organised crime syndicate audience "how about you, don't be shy." He said, pointing at Sonny Gambino.

"Hey… I'm a bit nervous in here." Sonny said as he was placed inside a steel box as Harvey Volodarski's assistants sealed him inside.

"Do not worry, stage fright happens to the best of us." The magician said, trying to comfort the snitch. "1…2…3!" He shouted as the box seemed to house an explosion, smoke seeping out of the corners. When it was opened however Sonny Gambino dropped onto the floor, his right arm completely detached and his skull split.

"Well at least that thing works as a rat trap!" one of the audience members shouted to the laughs of the rest, for them it was one less problem. For Harvey, it was one more pay check.

--

"An interesting technique there, there's more to you than meets the eye." Sylvia said, walking towards Harvey not long after the little "show"

"Another contract perhaps at a later date?" he said, not turning towards her. He assumed it was one of the mafia girls "hmm, I didn't recognise you in the audience. How did you know I'd be here?" he inquired, when he finally turned around, letting his eyes run all over her.

"I asked your agent, he said you were at a private party and it was just child's play after that."

"Modest aren't you?"

"Perhaps we can talk business somewhere else."

"But of course."

"I represent an organization of assassins, we control all the rankings systems around the world. I was sent here to report that you have reached number 4, and we are giving you a chance to make it official."

"Sounds interesting, what's the catch?"

"Only that you may have to participate in ranked fights to move up a rank. It's very tough at the top. The best assassin's in the world are sometimes pitted against each other."

"Hmm, why not? It sounds like it could be fascinating."

"Sign here, and make sure you produce the $50 thousand sign up fee."

"That is a lot of money…" Harvey pulled away, perhaps she was a little too direct about asking for the cash.

"We could work out a payment plan?" Sylvia offered.

"Would making this official help me get anymore work? Just asking."

"If you make it official now you can put it on your resume with confidence that there is no way that some young punk could slip by you. That will help with your notoriety."

"Then I'll make my money back, and more."

"Precisely."

"Then if you would be so kind as to hand me a pen?"

_Hook, line and sinker_. Sylvia thought as she watched Harvey sign the dotted line, she was running out of numbers now, she already had a number 3 planned out but who would be numbers 2 and 1?

--

**Probably going to skip number 3 because I can't really think of anything for Speed Buster. Bad Girl on the other hand…**


	8. Bad Girl

**Rank 2: Bad Girl**

_**You think you're bad, don't ya?**_

**Deciding to skip Speed Buster for several reasons, one being that I didn't really have anything to write about her, and another being Bad Girl is a much more crazy prospect when looking at it in this manner. (I.E rationalising all the assassins to some extent so they could be slightly more plausible)**

**WARNING: This chapter features very foul language from the Assassin in question. Very foul, so if you are offended by this in any way shape or form, please click back before you get angry or faint. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**--**

_What in the name of whichever circle of hell I'm destined to go to am I doing here? _Syvia thought to herself. Quite a different scenario to normal, here she was, exploring the underground tunnels of Destroy Stadium like some common lab rat! But that wasn't the worst part.

"One! Two! Three! This is getting too fucking easy. Let's see if you'll do better." A high pitched voice echoed throughout the corridor.

_Please be not what I think it is, for the sake of not vomiting on the spot. _Sylvia thought, coming up to the door, possibly holding the source of her noise and what, against all better knowledge, she was looking for.

"One! Crap, all the rib cage broke in one swing huh, pussy."

"Ahem." Sylvia coughed nervously, entering the room. It wasn't exactly like she expected it to be, the carpet was thick green and there were motivational posters on the beige walls. What would be considered a fairly normal training area if not for the over powering stench of blood, beer and the presence of some victim tied up with electrical tape, hung in the batting cage and being hit repeatedly by a blonde haired women with a large baseball bat.

"What the hell do you want, bitch?" She asked, advancing on Sylvia. This was Bad Girl, the most infamous hit woman in California. "Bat shit insane" was often used as a compliment towards her. There was some incident about 4 years ago, someone had tried to rape her and she defended herself. She killed the man and got the taste for blood.

That was a long time ago and any sympathy that could have been drawn from it was lost the instance she decided that it wasn't enough just to be paid to kill things, she made it her hobby as well, trying to think of new ways to hurt people, make them suffer and squirm. Ever wonder why none of the police are in any use around Santa Destroy? Most sources would have you believe that one by one, she killed about half of the force. And the other half is out solely to stop her.

"Is this… I mean, are you…" Sylvia stuttured.

"Am I what?"

"The … _cough _… assassin known as Bad Girl?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I am representative for the UAA…"

"Never heard of you, so you have a couple of seconds before I get blood on that pretty little dress of yours, or something worse."

"I am just here to inform you that you've made it to rank…2?"

"Number 2? Who in the world is better than me?" She shouted, holding Sylvia against the wall.

"Well, not the world more the United States." The con-woman corrected her but instantly regretted it. "But if you'd just sign here, you'd be able to climb to the top of the US rankings and then possibly the world!" She said fumbling for the contract.

"Huh, what's to stop me just killing the guy above me?"

"There are certain rules for that. If a registered member dies outside of a ranked match all the other registered members move up to fill the gap so if you didn't register they'd… bypass you."

"Ranked match? So I get a full blown fight instead of just jumping the fucker from behind?"

"Yes, that is standard procedure."

"Sweeten the deal."

"What?"

"You heard me, sure a fight may be nice instead of killing some guy scared shitless of me but just that ain't gonna cut it."

"There is one more thing…"

--

"Are. You. Insane?" Doctor Naomi whispered

"I had no choice, I had to do something to make her sign, if she didn't I wouldn't have left that stadium alive." Sylvia whispered back in defence of her actions.

"So you brought her here?" The morally ambiguous doctor hissed, pointing at Bad Girl who was currently looking over the laboratory, with little regard for things she deemed either 'junk' or 'fun killers'. Naomi estimated that she'd already been set back $10,000.

"Look on the bright side, maybe one of these things can kill her?" Sylvia suggested.

"You do know who this is, right? Run a beam Katana through her and it'll only make her mad."

"Hey doc! What the hell is this thing?" The assassin shouted, snapping the two con-women out of their personal conversation.

"That was my cloning machine."

"Cloning machine huh? Do you reckon this thing could churn them out on a belt?" She said, poking one of the tanks.

"Only in the physical sense, they wouldn't have much mental function if you produced them that fast, to make a proper one that could exist in society as an exact duplicate takes months so I…"

"I'll take it."

"What?"

"Its just what I always wanted. Guess I'm gonna like this UAA thing after all." Bad Girl said, licking her lips. Sylvia and Naomi didn't want to know what she meant by that, and neither did anyone with an uneasy stomach.

--

**Sadistic, foul mouthed, and overall psychotic. Now who's getting the number 1 spot, Darth Vader, I mean Dark Star or Jeane? Or it could be both, I don't know anymore.**


End file.
